Chapter 7
Cynthia hadn’t expected to get caught. For a moment, panic flickered across her face as she scrambled for an excuse.
“I had some free time,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Thought I’d help tidy up your study.”
Alexander didn’t look convinced. Just as he was about to press further, Morinne came sweeping in, gesturing for the servants to carry a large box behind her.
“Cindy!” she called cheerfully. “These are gifts I picked up for you!”
She opened the box and pulled out a pair of handmade clay figurines. “Look-Alex and I made these together! Aren’t they
adorable?”
She dug deeper, “And this deerskin dress-so unique, right? We took couple photos in outfits like this, and I figured you’ve probably never worn anything like it, so I got you one too!”
“Oh, and this prayer card,” she added, holding up a small silk pouch. “Alex prayed for my safety at the church, and he got one for you too-just as an afterthought, of course. We were hiking up this mountain, and halfway through, I couldn’t go on. So guess what? He carried me the rest of the way!”
Her laughter was sweet and smug, brimming with delight. Cynthia remained silent, her face unreadable.
“Thanks, Ms. Ayla,” she murmured quietly, eyes downcast as she allowed the servants to carry the entire box into her
room.
Morinne wasn’t finished.
“You know, Cindy, I feel terrible that Alex and I have been so busy lately-we’ve barely spent time with you. It must be lonely around here. But hey, there’s an auction tonight! Why don’t you come with us?”
She hooked her arm through Cynthia’s, pretending sisterly affection, her voice full of excitement.
Cynthia was just about to decline when she caught sight of Alexander’s warning gaze.
His eyes were filled with a clear message: Don’t upset Morinne.
So she remained silent.
She let Morinne drag her upstairs to change into a formal gown and went along to the auction in silence.
At the auction house, item after item appeared on stage. Cynthia watched without much interest.
Morinne, on the other hand, was completely engaged. She set her sights on several sparkling pieces of jewelry, and Alexander-ever the generous companion-bought each one for her without hesitation.
Then, as the event reached its peak, a new item was presented: a crystal bracelet.
It wasn’t perfect. A small heart-shaped chip marred its otherwise pristine surface, and most attendees dismissed it immediately.
But Cynthia froze.
Her breath caught in her throat. That bracelet… it was her mother’s.
That tiny, imperfect heart-shaped chip-she had caused it herself as a child when she’d dropped it by accident.
Her eyes instantly filled with tears. She quickly raised her paddle.
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“One million.”
The crowd murmured, but showed little interest in the flawed piece.
The auctioneer raised his gavel, preparing to finalize the sale.
But just then, Morinne raised her own paddle.
“Two million!”
Cynthia turned to look at her, confused. Why would she want this bracelet?
Still, she lifted her paddle again. “Three million!”
“Four million,” Morinne countered with a smile.
Their bidding battle escalated rapidly. Cynthia could feel her pulse thundering in her ears, but she didn’t back down.
“That bracelet belonged to my mother,” she thought. There’s no way I’m letting it go.
Morinne gave her a pouty, regretful look. “Cindy, I’d let you have everything else, really. But this bracelet-I love it too much.
I just can’t give it up.”
Cynthia stared at her in silence. Her expression didn’t change, but her resolve only hardened.
She continued to raise the bid, refusing to back down.
“Ten million.”
“Fifty million.”
“One hundred million.”
“Three hundred million.”
Gasps erupted across the auction hall. All heads turned toward the two women in stunned disbelief.
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